Someone that I used to know
by Neoyorquina
Summary: Based on S.2, Ep. 4 "Beltway Unbuckled" and told from Edison's point of view.
1. Chapter 1

_Now and then I think of when we were together  
Like when you said you felt so happy you could die  
Told myself that you were right for me  
But felt so lonely in your company  
But that was love and it's an ache I still remember_

_You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness_  
_Like resignation to the end, always the end_  
_So when we found that we could not make sense_  
_Well you said that we would still be friends_  
_But I'll admit that I was glad it was over_

_But you didn't have to cut me off_  
_Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing_  
_And I don't even need your love_  
_But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough_

"Somebody that I Used to Know" by Gotye

**Someone That I Used to Know**

Three years. That's how long it had been since I had last heard from the Great Olivia Pope. So you can imagine my surprise when my secretary handed me the message that Olivia had called my office requesting to see me.

I was in no rush to return Olivia's phone call. She made me wait three years, what was a few more hours. I'd call her back when I felt like it.

Two days later when I did that political TV talk show Olivia was watching. She called me during a commercial break to critique what I was wearing. Pinstripes. She hated the pinstripes. I knew it was just a pretense to speak to me. We made plans to meet the following day.

But when we finally met to speak in person I could feel she was trying to reinitiate our relationship on some level. What she asked me to do for her, well, it was pretty serious stuff and I don't see how she could expect me to go along with her plan unless she had something to give me in return.

Was this initial meeting in the park about business or pleasure? Olivia was never one to be direct about her feelings, so had she initiated contact with me to talk politics or was it that she had finally thawed out and come to her senses and realized that I, Sen. Edison Davis was the right guy for her? I was, after all, a tremendous catch - a U.S. Senator representing the great state of Florida. Olivia would be lucky to have me. There's nobody who could top me on the political food chain. Nobody, except for the President of the United States, but Fitzgerald T. Grant is a punk ass JFK wannabe. God, do I hate that guy. He's so….cocky. Anyway, he's also married and a Republican, so that means he wouldn't even be on Liv's radar. Olivia involved with a married Republican? Yeah, right. That was about as likely as $2 a gallon gas prices making a comeback. Nah, Olivia Pope is a political nun. She lives for her work and works to live. That's one of the things I've always liked and admired about her - her work ethic.

Olivia and I originally met way back in 2002 at a Congressional Black Caucus event and I was impressed by her poise and intelligence. She had a great family pedigree and I knew that being romantically involved with her wouldn't cause me any embarrassment and might actually open up some doors as she appeared to be well connected professionally and politically.

Olivia and I were perfect for one another…on paper. We were both ambitious and consumed with climbing the ladder. We had a good, solid friendship and I will say that she was very supportive of me professionally.

But now I have to be honest: Olivia Pope, doesn't do it for me physically. Yeah, she's an attractive girl, but she's not my type physically. Too short and skinny. I prefer my women taller, bigger, with more meat on their bones. You know, like a Beyoncé type, only intelligent.

Olivia's pretty boring in bed. Missionary-style only. I think in the four years we were together, she gave me a blowjob twice and one of those times she was drunk. Sex was something we scheduled. There was very little spontaneity in our relationship. It was never steamy and passionate, not even in the first few months of us dating. Olivia and I never had the sort of attraction where you want to tear each others clothes off as soon as you're behind closed doors, where you start having sex before you even hit the bed and you're in such a hurry to do the deed that you're knocking over lamps or climbing on top of furniture. No way. She's not that kind of girl. Always refined, always a lady, even behind closed doors.

Sex with Olivia was like drinking a glass of warm milk. Calm and soothing. In fact, having sex with her was a great way to cure my insomnia. If I wanted to get buck wild, I had to have those needs met elsewhere with other more willing and sexually experienced partners. Although she never confronted me about it I think Olivia knew that I slept with other women. In fact, I don't think she really cared since she knew it was just sex. None of those other women posed a threat to her and her position as my girlfriend.

You know who I find really attractive? The First Lady. Now that's one fine female specimen. She's a stunner. And I know I'm going to sound like a pervert, but she's really filled out nicely up top now that she's pregnant. Pres. Grant is a very lucky man. Boy, if I could get a woman like that, I'd marry her in a heartbeat.

So anyway, back to Olivia, it was really strange that less than a few days after she initiated contact with me and asked me to start poking around national security matters, I got kicked off the intelligence committee and put under investigation. Coincidence? I think not. Like I said, that Fitz Grant is a real son of a bitch. I didn't even tell Olivia anything of consequence and Grant completely irrationally overreacts. It's like what's the deal with him? You would think I had stolen his woman, or something.

The good thing that came out of that debacle though is that I now get to spend more time with Olivia. I had lunch with her today and we had a good working session talking about the Jenny Nystrom case. Liv had the brilliant idea to rope the First Lady into the case and the media attention was just what we needed. Now I'm headed to Olivia's office to see if she wants to go out for drinks. I could get used to this, Olivia and I, the perfect team, just like old times.

When I arrive at her office, Olivia is sitting on her office couch, obviously deep in thought.

I stand in the doorway and look at her. She doesn't sense my presence at all. Finally, I speak.

"You did good work for those people," I say.

She snorts and turns to look at me.

"You did. You did good work today. It may not feel like it, but you did."

Olivia shakes her head and then says: "These girls, they come to D.C. thinking they're going to change the world and then they get involved with some man and they think that things…"

I interrupt her, feeling that the moment is right. "I thought we were good together," flashing her my best smile.

A strange look briefly flashes across her face. A look I can't fully read but which I can interpret isn't positive.

"Oh, you weren't talking about me which is...awkward," I say, mildly embarrassed. I cross my arms in front of my chest.

Olivia gives me a thin smile and trying to be polite she says, "We _**were**_ good together." It doesn't go unnoticed the extra emphasis she gives to the past tense. "_We were..." _in the past, not "_we are" _in the present.

She is visibly tired and sad, as though she's received some very bad news. She looks like she could use a hug, so I go sit beside her on the couch.

"Come here."

She looks at me as though I were an alien with two heads or a random stranger on a bus trying to pry into her business.

"Come here," I repeat.

She begrudgingly scoots over next to me. I place my arm around her shoulders. Her body feels stiff and rigid. She's unwilling to take refuge in my arms.

"It's gonna be alright," I say reassuringly hoping this phrase will unlock the gate she's thrown up around her heart.

"No," she begins shaking her head, "no, it's not." She gives me a look that without a doubt reveals she doesn't believe me at all.

I see the emotion and despair in her eyes. I see the pain, hurt and grief she's feeling for something she's lost. Or is it someone she's lost? Someone who obviously isn't me. And in that moment, when she looks at me, I see that Olivia is no longer the person that I used to know.

* * *

_**A/N: I'm not an Edison Davis fan but I thought it would be fun to see things from his point of view. He has no idea what he's up against (Fitz) and it must really hurt to think that you're getting back with your ex only to find out she's thinking about someone else. OK, please post reviews and let me know what you think. This is a one-shot with no sequel planned.**_

_**Thanks!**_


	2. Breakdown

**Chapter 2: Breakdown**

_"Invite me in, because I'm a man and I don't play games and you and I are very good together."_

There I've said it. I've wanted to say this for weeks and have finally worked up the courage to express what I had been thinking for a while. There I am in the hallway holding two reusable shopping bags filled with popcorn and wine for her, a meatball sub and beer for me and a couple of Angelina Jolie DVDs. I stand there. Waiting. Olivia just stares at me. A slight tremor of emotion flutters across her face. And then, without warning, a tsunami of tears comes rushing out. Her body shakes, wracked by sobs, as something painful she has obviously been holding on to inside for a very long time comes bursting through.

"Olivia! What happened?" I exclaim, momentarily shocked by the sight of seeing her so distraught.

She flings herself at me and begins to frantically kiss me. She anxiously tugs at and angrily pulls off my jacket as she drags me into the apartment. She's delirious. I have never seen Olivia like this before and as we kiss I can feel her tears trailing down my own cheeks. She's upset, very upset and I feel weird kissing her like this, but I don't want to stop. I'm turned on and yet confused. This is what I wanted - for Olivia to give herself to me without reservation, right? But this feels wrong, all wrong. I have the distinct impression that Olivia isn't truly giving herself to me but rather trying to drown some secret sorrow, bury some perpetual pain that has cut her very deeply. I want her, but not like this.

We're now inside her bedroom. Olivia scrambles to quickly undress, as though she knows that at any moment she might come to her senses and call the whole thing off. There is a whiff of desperation, not seduction, around the whole scene. I want to have sex with her, really I do, but she truly doesn't seem like herself. The cool, confident, professional woman I admire has been replaced by someone who is frantic, uncertain and emotionally vulnerable and now collapsing in front of me. Something terrible has happened to her, something horrible, but I don't want to be a sedative fuck that will momentarily dull whatever pain she is experiencing.

Her hands grasp at my belt buckle and she's still crying as she frantically struggles to unbuckle it. I grab her hands and take a step back. "Olivia, what's wrong? Tell me what's wrong."

"Edison, I didn't invite you in to talk. I want you. Isn't that enough?"

"Olivia, I've been dying to hear you say that, but something is obviously not right."

Her hands disappear behind her back, and with the flick of a wrist, she unsnaps her bra. She strips off her panties and then scrambles on top of the bed and spreads her legs open wide. "Edison, just shut up and fuck me. PLEASE!"

I look at her tiny form on the bed. I am aghast. What the hell has gotten into her? This is not the Olivia I knew, the Olivia I care about. She was acting like a crack ho clamoring for her next hit on the pipe.

"Olivia, have you been drinking? What happened to you?"

"Edison, I am not drunk! Do you want to have sex or not?"

"Olivia, not like this. This is not sexy. This is not you. Talk to me. What happened?"

The tears begin flowing once again. She painfully rolls onto her side and curls up into a fetal position. I stand there, shocked and bewildered by the sight splayed out in front of me of Olivia Pope having an emotional breakdown. It's like a car wreck. I want to look away, but I can't.

There's a folded blanket at the foot of the bed. I take it and cover her with it. Still fully dressed, I climb into the bed, on top of the blanket, and lay next to her. She continues to bawl her eyes out, as the sobs violently shake her entire body. I roll over a little closer to hold her and she feels so tiny and fragile in my arms. I hope that my embrace will give her some measure of comfort or relief even though I feel like a brazen intruder who is witnessing a moment of very private grief.

* * *

_A/N: When I wrote chapter one this was originally supposed to be a one shot. But after the latest episode, "Spies Like Us," I felt like there was more to say about this tortured "romance" between Edison and Olivia. Should I continue this story? Personally, I still haven't decided whether or not I have the energy to expend on a Liv/Edison fan fic. Let me know what you think in a review. Thanks! _


End file.
